


Paint me Scarlet, Paint Me Gold

by lets_get_messi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate use of art materials, M/M, Paint Sex, Painter! Steve, Photographer! Bucky, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Semi-Public Sex, Sorry Steve, art student with artists block projects artists block onto steve, art students au, inappropriate use of artist in dirty talk, sorry to all my lecturers, the paint is non-toxic lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_get_messi/pseuds/lets_get_messi
Summary: “Excuse me?” Of all the words in the English language, and all the possible variations of those words, the last thing Bucky expected Steve Grant Rogers to say was 'take off your shirt'.Art Student AU where Steve elects Bucky to help him get rid of his artist's block.





	Paint me Scarlet, Paint Me Gold

Bucky whistled as he made his way down the hallway of the art campus, sunlight painting the corridor in golden rays as the Fall sun began to set in the world outside. 

The building was relatively empty, it always was after 6pm, students choosing to either finish their assignment work off at home or giving themselves the night off from the stress. Steve of course was not one of these students. Steve's passion was art and that had been made pretty clear from the moment they met in first year, Steve a bundle of nervous energy and charming smiles. Steve's work ethic wasn't the same as Bucky's who only wanted to do an art degree because he felt like it was an easy option for him, or like Natasha who'd said countless times she'd exhausted every possible avenue of education and art felt rather like a last resort. No, Steve was born to be an artist and Bucky guessed that passion from his friend was what tended to inspire Bucky to put all he could into his own work.

He took the familiar route from his basement location up to the attic room where Steve's studio was. Upon entering Steve's studio Bucky found the guy perched on a stool and frowning at the empty canvas in front of him and completely alone as expected. 

“You know, it usually helps if you actually paint something onto there.” Bucky began as a greeting, his friend simply rolling his eyes and continuing staring at the canvas, fingers squeezing at his bottom lip in thought. “Ooh! Unless you're going for some conceptual, minimalist shit. Like, 'the thought itself was the painting'” Bucky mocked, crossing the room to his friend who just groaned out in frustration. 

“I have artist's block! Everything I paint either comes out shit, or nothing comes out at all!” Steve complained, pouting dramatically and toying with the half-empty white spirit bottle beside his sketchbook. If Bucky wanted to make a comment about how his friend looked several shades of adorable when he was pissed, he didn't, instead he just settled on dragging a stool over and sitting beside him. 

“Nah man, seriously. It happens! Don't let it get you down, alright? Just throw some ideas at me! Like, what's your concept?” Bucky let Steve sit in silence as he just stared at the canvas as though the painting itself would spring to life at any moment.

“Ok, so I wanna use color to represent movement. Like, the fluidity of the paint itself so I'm making up different paints and using gloss or matte mediums to try and manipulate the paint.” He spoke with his hands, Bucky following the movement of his fingers as he spoke, nodding along to Steve's vision.

“See, that sounds great! You do have an idea. I mean, sure I'm a photographer so I don't know jack shit about painting. But seriously, you have an idea.” Bucky encouraged, Steve smiling in thanks at that.

“I guess. I just can't execute it.”

“Maybe go full Pollock, and like put the canvas on the floor and move over it with paint or paint onto a moving surface.” Bucky suggested.

“I like that.” Steve nodded with a pout, brow furrowing slightly and Bucky smiled at the familiarity of Steve's expression making way for the little cogs in his head to no doubt be turning. It took less than 3 seconds for his eyes to widen and brighten all at once and Bucky felt like all the light in the room went into Steve's eyes in that moment.

“Hey Buck, wanna help a pal out?” His one brow was raised and curved and Bucky nodded embarrassingly quick.

“Sure man, just say the word and I'm there!”

“Take off your shirt.” Steve rose from his stool at that, crouching down to the locker beside him and punching in the code on the lock.

“Excuse me?” Of all the words in the English language, and all the possible variations of those words, the last thing Bucky expected Steve Grant Rogers to say was 'take off your shirt'.

“You said you'd help!”

“Yeah but, a man's body is sacred.” Bucky said, wrapping his opened plaid shirt around himself causing Steve to roll his eyes affectionately as he busied himself with rummaging through his studio locker and gathering up all the paints he had. Bucky eyed them, watching him stand and line them up neatly on his table and squirt them onto the paint-marked wooden palette already there.

Bucky would be lying if he said he hadn't wanted to take his shirt off around Steve before, fuck there was a party back in first year when he ripped his shirt off in a drunken stupor and could have sworn he'd caught Steve staring but that was probably the cruel mistress that was Bucky's hopes lying to him during his inebriated confidence.

“I just wanna test how paint can react on a moving surface.”

“Don't use my own words against me.” Bucky said, pointing a playful finger at Steve who pulled a face in retort.

“Just take your damn shirt off and let me try this.” Bucky just stared at his friend for a while, he was painfully aware of the hammering of his heart, at the swoop low in his stomach that tasted bitterly of hope but he had to swallow it down and force a smile because Steve needed him, and everything else could be dammed for another day.

“Fine but this means you're agreeing to posing nude for my photography project.” Steve beamed at him and Bucky guessed he'd be a fool for Steve whenever the blonde required it.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Thank you so much!”

“Fine, use me Rogers.” Bucky took a step back throwing every fuck he'd ever given to the wind and pulling his shirt over his head. Steve dared a glance over to his friend then, before quickly selecting a paint brush as Bucky stood up, arms in the air in offering. 

Steve thumbed the tip of the brush, watching as the new hairs bent, splitting apart from each other, almost inviting the colour that would taint them, cover them and encapsulate them. He decided for blue. 

“I'm gonna start low.” Steve said, falling to his knees and Bucky swallowed thickly at the feeling that swirled deep inside him at that image. He tried to dispel thoughts that plagued him of Steve in a similar position if they were completely naked and mentally chastised himself for the utterly predictable heating of his insides that pooled between his legs at the thoughts he was having. 

Steve seemed none the wiser to Bucky's internal monologue, watching instead as the white hairs of his brush turned dark blue, saturating with the cold colour as he swiped the paintbrush through a blob on the palette beside him.

He lifted the brush almost in slow motion, Bucky swallowing thickly as he watched Steve. They both looked to the paintbrush then, a drop of paint sliding down the black brush handle and seeping onto the fingertip of the blonde, who breathed out as he and Bucky eyed the falling drop which stained his skin as it continued it's path down his finger.

“Hold still, Buck.” Steve whispered lowly shifting closer to Bucky's body who was pretty sure he'd die on the spot if Steve noticed the beginnings of an erection trapped within the confines of his skinny jeans. Bucky pushed a sweating hand through his dark hair which just fell back to whisk at his jawline as he watched Steve observing the empty canvas of skin Bucky had offered him. Steve seemed hypnotised by the steady rise and fall of Bucky's abdomen, the muscles there clenching with the need for the distance between them to be closed. It felt like time stood still, as though the cars and bustle of the city streets outside had disappeared and they were the only two left in the world, bringing colour to life in a world that only had them now.

Bucky hissed at the initial contact, Steve's paintbrush swirling cerulean against the skin of his hipbone. Steve was mesmerized instantly, letting the brush twist it's way passed Bucky's belly-button, flicking upwards until it stroked across his collarbone. He swallowed as he dabbed more paint onto the brush, Bucky sucking in a long drawn out breath as his cock twitched in his jeans. God, he'd stand there forever as a frozen sculpture if it meant he could have Steve's undivided attention. Steve acting as Michelangelo and Bucky the marble that was getting chiselled down to the bone minute by minute. He felt his palms sweating with the need that had him near short-circuiting, felt his chest pounding out the rhythm of his heart, as he watched Steve staring at the colourful path he left across the body laid out for him. He guessed a part of him had wanted Steve pretty much the moment he met him, but the fear of shattering the friendship they had built always keeping him at arms length as the days went by. But Steve was no longer at arms length, he was a paintbrush away, tongue swiping out to lick at his plump bottom lip, concentration evident on his face as he flicked a testing stroke over Bucky's nipple. 

Bucky's breath hitched at the feeling, his nipple suddenly a hardened nub due to the cold contact and fuck he wanted more, he wanted more paint, more Steve. Just something that would take the edge off the tension that was rising between them. Fuck, anyone could walk in. Bucky was stood with his shirt off and hands in fists at his side in a brightly lit studio, several other student's work hung up over the walls surrounding him, reminding him that this wasn't his and Steve's world. God, his cock let out another needy twitch at the thought of being caught, of someone finding him at bursting point for the blonde in front of him who Bucky could see was slowly losing his cool too.

Steve's eyes were blown, paintbrush seemingly working by itself as it repeated its movements from paint to Bucky's body and back again, building up layers of colour and need that had the pair breathing out deeply into the quiet air around them. Steve's cheeks were flushed pink now, brush dancing across Bucky's ribs who shuddered at each touch. It was too much and not enough all at once and Bucky wanted to grab his shirt and run away, laughing and pretending he didn't just pop a boner for his best friend, pretending the feeling inside him wasn't threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. Another long indulgent swipe below a hip bone and Bucky couldn't even suppress the quivering moan that released into the tight air around them.

Steve's breathing quickened slightly at the sound, dipping his brush in another colour -violet perhaps?- and biting his lip, groaning quietly to himself as he painted a vivid path in parallel to the deep rouge under one of Bucky's rib.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering softly every time he felt the coloured liquid stain into his flushing skin, every time he felt a path be made across his body by the artist on his knees. The outline of his dick must have been noticed by now, it was pressing painfully against the flies of his low rising jeans and fuck- it was at Steve's eye-level, practically daring the blonde to make a move that would leave Bucky either a burst of colour or static monochrome.

His eyes snapped open then as he felt a different sensation to those before it. He looked down to Steve, the paint brush discarded, and instead replaced by paint-smudged hands, smearing the delicately crafted lines across his chest, Steve's fingers blending the colours as his lips kissed at the newly painted stomach. God those lips, those lips made for quippy retorts and for Steve's fingers to squeeze when he was in thought, were plump and colour stained as they kissed little pecks against Bucky.

Fuck.

Steve's darkened eyes locked with Bucky's, gazing up at him through a fan of golden lashes, and all Bucky could do was let his hands reach out and stroke at Steve's forearms, keeping the fingers fluttering against his ribs and daring him for more. God he wanted more.

Bucky thrust his hips upwards, his confined erection craving for friction as he squeezed at Steve's slim arms.

Steve let his tongue flick out against Bucky's rib, the dark-haired boy practically purring as he watched a now blue tongue lick across his shimmering lips. Bucky felt his fingers dance across Steve's neck, his pulse hammering as Bucky pressed a testing squeeze around that slender throat and fuck, the moan Steve released should have been bottled and sold. It was pure filth, eyes fluttering before fixating back on Bucky who couldn't stop his other hand from rubbing over his clothed dick. 

“Jesus Bucky, make your fucking move.” Steve demanded and Bucky did just that, using the hand around Steve's throat to lift the guy from his knees. He brought Steve's face to his own, mouths meeting in a messy collision of saliva and paint. Hands were suddenly everywhere, Bucky walking Steve towards the table and lifting him up, the kissing deepening as Steve wrapped skinny legs around Bucky's waist bringing their cocks together. Bucky groaned into the kiss ripping at the buttons of Steve's shirt and shedding the blonde of it all together as they rutted against one another craving more more more from the friction that had them both panting.

Bucky slapped a hand down on the table's sturdy surface, squeezing at a fallen paint bottle and felt the cold rush of spilt liquid over his hand. He pulled from the kiss at the feeling, leaving an inch or so between him and Steve who stared at him through blown eyes, lips kiss-bitten and shinning. Bucky bought his painted covered hand to Steve's throat, watching as the Blonde leaned back to allow him more purchase on his grasp. Bucky was fucking hypnotised by the red handprint left around Steve's throat and that's all he needed. He rubbed his hands over the spilled paint of the table, running his fingers over Steve's slender frame and eliciting moans from the boy that had their hips rutting together more and more. God he was making his mark on Steve and it was better than any word he could summon, it was better than any photograph he could take because it was real and palpable and at his fingertips, a blue thumb swiping across a nipple, a yellow index finger travelling over the ridges of Steve's ribs and it was everything all at once.

Just when Bucky thought he couldn't feel any more than he was feeling, Steve's deft fingers unbuttoned his jeans and a paint stained hand pushed beneath the waistband of his boxers and grabbed onto Bucky's painfully hard cock. The moan that tore from his throat was sinful, and echoed off the white walls around them. Steve's fist was slick with paint as he pumped Bucky's dick, bringing their mouths back together in a kiss that was gonna leave Bucky gasping for air. It was all tongues and teeth, more of a headbutt than a kiss but it was everything Bucky ever imagined kissing Steve would have been. It was the kind of desperation that felt like a balloon bursting, after so long of the balloon filling with air in the form of late night conversations and days spent together, it burst and had them joining together so quickly it was practically a blur.

Bucky groaned, fingers fisting through blonde hair stained with the mis-use of paint. There was an electric energy behind how Steve's hand felt now, tugging over Bucky's cock, the other clawing over Bucky's skin. The energy was rather like a radio station finally finding the perfect signal as fingers swiped and scratched colour over tan flesh. 

“I'm gonna come, kiddo.” Bucky said, pulling away from the kiss and groaning at the string of spit joining their mouths as Steve bit a lip, fist working quicker and harder until Bucky's eyes were squeezing shut and his hips were rocking up further and further, chasing the feeling that was shooting through his veins like liquid heat. 

“Come for me Buck.” And like the predictable man he was, Bucky shot stripes of come into Steve's waiting fist, fingers working over his sensitive skin and milking the orgasm that soaked Bucky's bones in a warm glow. He didn't know he could come that hard, felt his legs shaking as he grabbed at Steve for support who kissed along his jawline, whispering unintelligible words into Bucky's ear like a mantra of comfort.

Bucky opened his eyes, breathing steadying as he looked at Steve, cheeks a mess of colour and flushed from sex and in a move Bucky would remember to his dying day, Steve bought his hand from Bucky's underwear and sucked the come from those spidery paint-coated digits. Bucky's cock made a pitiful twitch from inside his wet underwear and all he could do was growl out. He pushed Steve so he was laying back on the ruined table, kissing down his chest and licking across smudged paint to a hardened nub of a nipple that he welcomed gladly into his mouth.

“Jesus Bucky, suck me!” Steve begged at the feeling of Bucky's mouth on him and the smile that came onto the brunette's face was as devilish as it could have ever been as he made his way lower down Steve's body. Bucky's shaking hands made quick work of Steve's belt and files, ripping down his jeans and underwear in a quick motion. His cock sprung free, Steve sucking in a gasp at the cold air that enveloped him as Bucky just stared. 

God that cock was perfect, slim and curving slightly at the tip as it leaked pre-come in silver droplets down the reddening flesh of muscle. Bucky didn't waste any-more time, he just wrapped a skilled colourful hand around the base before wrapping his lips around the tip. Steve's hands found his head at once, Bucky's tongue dipping into the slit and swirling around once and then twice before he sank the entire length down to the back of his throat. 

“Fuck, you look like a Pollock painting but more fucking beautiful.” Steve was babbling, biting down on his knuckles now, the other hand still on the back of Bucky's head, encouraging his sucks that were going down to the base, Steve fucking into the back of his throat with abandon. Bucky's tongue swiped around the shaft on every up stroke, throat relaxing on every down, fingers pressing bruises into Steve's small thighs, daring to spread his legs as far apart as they could with the jeans still clinging to the tops of his legs. 

“I'm gonna come on your face, fuck. Pollock's paintings sell for millions and will never look as good as you.” Bucky moaned around Steve's lengths and that was enough to push the blonde over the edge. He pulled out of Bucky's mouth, dick shimmering with saliva as his small paint-smeared fist tugged once and then twice before he came hot spurts over Bucky's waiting face, tongue out and come dripping over his lashes. 

The room fell silent aside from their ragged breathing, the world outside those walls turning still and all Bucky could do was breathe.

The two moved then, Bucky doing his jeans up and wiping the come off his face with the back of his arm before laying down on the table next to Steve who managed to put his softening cock away before he decided he was too sated to bother with anything else.

God Bucky could only imagine how they looked, the table and floor destroyed, paint dripping from the surface and staining the ground around them, the pair themselves a fucking mess.

But fuck what he wouldn't give to do it all over again.

“Fuck.” Steve whispered breathlessly, running a hand over his face and Bucky would have laughed at the smudge of red that marked the path of his palm if Steve's face wasn't already stained with the memory of wandering hands. “That probably hasn't helped much with the artists block, but it did wonders for my ego.” Steve joked, Bucky swatting at his stomach and throwing his head back to laugh.

“Just happy to help! Oh and you know for my photography project?” Bucky asked and Steve's gaze instantly darkened in recollection as his eyes found his friend's. “Does this mean you're definitely up for posing naked?”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so this is terribly written but I'm stressing over my art finals so here have this  
> thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.  
> I have other Steve/Bucky AUs in my AO3 Works if you want to check them out!  
> I also have a tumblr so come talk stucky headcanons with me!  
> doncasterlyrock.tumblr.com


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